


Mile After Mile

by thisgirlsays22



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Angst, M/M, Mind specific chapter warnings, Mystery, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:56:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisgirlsays22/pseuds/thisgirlsays22
Summary: Even though Eren’s nineteen now, even though he’s learned to fight back against things that go bump in the night, sometimes when he glances over at Levi, he’s still just a kid with a hopeless crush.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager, Side ships to appear later mwhaha
Comments: 34
Kudos: 134





	Mile After Mile

**Author's Note:**

> I'm scared and excited to start sharing this story. Supernatural creatures? Investigations? MYSTERIES?? ERERI!!! I've never tried to tackle something like this before, and I look forward to going on this journey with any of you who are interested in going with me <3
> 
> Oh, and in case it wasn't super obvious, I was very inspired by loving the show Supernatural for ALL THE YEARS! But it isn't based off the show's plotlines etc.

“So what’s the plan?” Eren asks, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

Levi swipes a thumb over his bottom lip. The quick, unconscious tick is often a prelude to Levi’s directions. 

“You go in first,” Levi instructs, “just hang out, have a beer, watch a few rounds if they’re happening. After half an hour, I’ll come in and play someone, then throw the game.”

Eren knows how this one unfolds. “Then you notice me watching and you ask if I’m just gonna stare all night.” 

“Yep. And you’re a little wary but interested.” 

“You want me to act cocky, right?” 

Levi nods and leans back in the driver’s seat. “Yeah, kid. You won’t need to dig too fucking deep for that shit. The role you were born for.” 

Eren rolls his eyes and continues, “And we don’t know each other?” Sometimes they’re buddies meeting at the bar, drunk and rowdy, looking to blow off some steam and maybe win a bit of extra beer money. 

“Never seen your ugly mug before in my life,” Levi confirms. 

“You want me to lose?” Eren offers, careful to keep the tentative hope out of his voice. If Levi says yes, it means he trusts Eren to step up. Trusts Eren not to blow their chance to hustle some easy marks without a fight. Last time, Eren had messed up big time. Gotten them into a dicey situation which ended with Levi cracking a pool cue over a man’s head. 

Eren had whooped with laughter as they’d run and run until they reached their car, breathless and high on adrenaline until Levi chewed him out for being a moron. As Levi chastised him for his reckless stupidity, Eren realised that maybe playing it safe had its merits, that he expected too much from Levi to always be his hero and bail his ass out of trouble. 

“Yeah. I’ll keep an eye on you, make sure no one’s onto us.” 

A thrill runs down Eren’s spine. When Levi watches him like that, even if it’s an act, it makes Eren stand a little straighter, play a little harder. There’s an art to hustling pool, and Levi’s craftsmanship is something to be admired. 

“Don’t fuck it up this time. I’m not saving your ass again,” Levi says. 

_ Damn it _. Eren angles his head so Levi can’t see his scowl. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you too.” 

Eren steps into the cold night air and heads for the alleyway. It’s a foggy evening, the kind that looks like it’s made for ghosts, but Eren knows better by now. Ghosts don’t give a fuck about the weather. 

Before he leaves for the bar, he looks back at Levi, still sitting in the car. Just for good measure he tips his cap at Levi, and Eren knows he’ll be rolling his eyes even though his face is obscured by the darkness. 

Eren’s been on the road with Levi since he was twelve years old, ever since Levi rescued him from the nameless, awful creature that destroyed Eren’s life. Murdered his entire family. Its twisted, smiling face forever filling Eren’s head with more nightmares than should reasonably fit in his brain. 

Even though Eren’s nineteen now, even though he’s learned to fight back against things that go bump in the night, sometimes when he glances over at Levi, he’s still just a kid with a hopeless crush. 

It had been the winter Eren was fifteen that he’d realised it. Cold all the time, all the cheap motels they’d stayed in with broken heaters. Levi always had his own sheets with him and never let them use the comforters. “Fucking filthy. Take the UV light out of the trunk, you’ll never sleep sound again,” Levi had said when Eren bitched and moaned about how weird he was. 

They’d shared beds more nights than he could count, when the motels only had a queen-sized bed left. No big deal. Warmer that way anyway. But that winter it became a cruel and unusual torture to share a bed with Levi. 

His fantasies were innocent at first, wondering what it would be like to reach over and touch Levi, for Levi to touch him back. Jerking off in grimy motel showers didn’t help matters. The more porn he snuck on his phone in the bathroom with the shower on at full blast to hide the noises, the worse things got. Now he couldn’t stop imagining the way Levi’s cock might taste or how it would feel to fuck Levi’s compact, muscular body. To bury his cock inside of Levi and make him writhe with pleasure. 

It’s been years and it hasn’t gotten any better. Unless horrific nightmares break down all of Eren’s defenses, he just offers to take the floor now. 

The bartender serves Eren a beer without question, the fake ID in his wallet rendered useless. Now that he’s grown his hair out and his last growth spurt pushed him past the six feet mark, he doesn’t get carded nearly as often as he used to. 

Beads of water drip down the sides of his beer glass onto the sticky surface of the bar. If Levi were next to him, he’d have already told the bartender to get his head out of his ass and clean the damn bar. Eren cases the room, making sure he’s discreet as he assesses the other patrons. There are a few rough-looking men near the worn pool tables in the back. Their tattoos, ripped black band shirts, and leather jackets are so obvious that Eren has to suppress a laugh. If he had a dollar for every cliché he met in one of these dives, he’d never have to hustle again. 

There’s an open table in the back corner, and Eren settles down there to watch a game unfold between two shit players who think they’re better than they are. 

“Watch and learn, boys,” one of the men tosses over his shoulder in the direction of three onlookers. “Bullshit!” they call back. Judging by the laughter, they’re all friends. Always harder to hustle someone in a group--more scrutiny, always a troublemaker who’s ready to stir shit up. 

Watching the game, he sips his drink and waits for Levi to arrive. He keeps one eye on the door, the illuminated beer sign in the window blinking back expectantly. 

He’s heard Levi moaning sometimes through the walls on the odd occasion they have separate rooms. Rarely flush with cash, it’s a luxury they normally can’t afford. Sometimes a break is necessary from the suffocating air they share day in and day out. Eren’s convinced that he’d never be able to occupy the same space with anyone but Levi for such prolonged periods of time, crossing the country, eating miles and miles of road in a small car. But sometimes they both--mostly Levi--need some fucking space. 

Those nights are rare, but Levi bringing someone home to fuck is even rarer. 

_ God, I’d give it to you so fucking good, _ he thinks as he fists his own cock. _ I’d take such good care of you. _There’s a short thread of jealousy that fuels his arousal, but it’s mostly just the sounds Levi makes when he’s coming undone. Eren wants Levi to get pleasure where he can, but Christ, Eren wants to be the one giving it to him. 

Levi’s an awkward guy, but you’d never know it from the way he concentrates on taking his shot. He might rarely have the right words, but damn if he doesn’t move with the coiled grace of a cat about to pounce. Deliberate, prowling. 

That biting longing rears its ugly head as Eren watches him from across the room, head tilted down towards his drink as he pretends he doesn’t know a soul in the room. This is the way they dance together. This perfectly choreographed hustle. 

Eren wanders around the periphery of the bar, stops to drum his fingers along the chipped wooden panels of the run-down jukebox. He sips his beer, keeping one eye on Levi as he wins the next round and then the next, face impassive each time. There’s a certain charge that shoots through Eren’s body when they’re like this, when he knows they’re both watching one another without the need to lock eyes. 

Eren edges closer to the pool tables, second beer in hand. Levi’s bending forward now, his back a smooth line as he sinks the 8 ball. Levi’s opponent curses under his breath but acknowledges the win with a handshake. 

There’s a moment of uncertainty that settles over Eren. For all his bravado, improv isn’t his strong suit yet. He’s about to blurt out some trash-talk to Levi, but thank fuck he doesn’t get the opportunity to embarrass himself because Levi speaks first. 

“You just gonna stare all night, kid, or you gonna play?” He’s not even looking directly at Eren, and yet Eren can feel the charge in the air that comes with Levi’s attention on him. 

“Yeah, I play.” Skeptical but just the right amount of edge to his voice, a defiant tilt of his jaw as he lifts his head. 

Meeting Eren’s eyes, Levi puts a twenty down on the table and lifts a challenging brow. Eren matches him. “You’re on, old man,” he says with a sneer, not missing the way his little jab makes something flicker behind Levi’s eyes. He can’t help that he likes to jab at Levi, to know that Eren’s inside of him enough to reveal the cracks in Levi’s mask. 

Eren throws their game in a careful, calculated way. He’s bad but not too bad. Just cocky and obnoxious enough that he’ll be the one sized up as an easy mark. As the night wears on, he’ll act drunk and too big for his britches, until the bets get bigger and--oh shucks--he lands a few ‘lucky’ shots and bleeds his opponent dry. 

“You’re shit,” Levi tells him with a shake of his head, turning to leave for the bar, but he returns with a consolation beer for Eren. Even in character, he’s still the same old Levi. 

The beer’s a good prop too because the drunker the other patrons think he is, the easier this charade will be. People are watching, and relief washes over Eren. He can do this. Tonight it’s up to him to keep this dance going. To keep on playing and bring them home the cash so they can keep going, going, going. There’s someone out there who needs them. Always is. Tomorrow, they’ll head in whatever direction they need to with whatever money they’ve got. 

He can tell from the smirks and eyerolls he catches that it’s going to be a good night. Eren’s good for his promise too, and he’s careful tonight. No pool cues used as weapons, no punches thrown, no Levi stitching him up in the dead of night. 

A man stands, leaving his laughing group of friends sitting behind him. “How bout another game?” He’s barely holding back a smirk, and his buddies are still laughing. 

Hook, line and sinker. 

When Eren sinks his last shot later that night and wins a hundred bucks, he looks up in time to catch the slight twitch in Levi’s lips. You’d have to pin him down and torture him to make him admit it out loud, but Levi’s approval means more to him than any money he might win.

To this day, he still half-expects Levi to kick him to the curb. Letting Eren stick around hadn’t exactly been part of his plan--a fact that he didn’t let Eren forget for years. Sometimes if they’re arguing about where to head next or Eren’s complaining about what Levi picked up for dinner, Levi will jerk his thumb as he says, “Door’s that way. No one’s ever stopped you from walking out of it.” 

And Eren snaps his mouth shut every time because they both know he’s never going to walk out that door. He can’t. He won’t. Doesn’t matter how badly he wants Levi to fall in love with him, to see him as something more than a broken burden of a kid, doesn’t matter how much it can hurt sometimes, Levi is his partner. His family. Eren’s never going to leave him without the biggest fight of his fucking life. 

“Well, would ya look at this?” Eren crows, fanning out his winnings like he’s asking Levi to pick a card. 

Levi gives him a sarcastic clap and heads towards the bathroom to wash off the stale smell of beer and cigarette smoke that clings to their skin after a night like this one. 

“Hey, who said you get the first shower?” Eren calls before Levi can shut the door. 

“I did.” 

“Fuck you, dude, that’s not fair.” 

Eren likes picking little fights like these, just to get Levi handsy with him. Because Levi could have just ignored Eren, shut and locked the bathroom door, but instead he indulges and wrestles and it’s only when he gets Eren in a headlock with his legs that Eren says, “Fine, fine, go wash your dirty ass.” 

Levi flips him off on the way, but he’s laughing. “Moron.” 

If this is all it’ll ever be, if this is his life, Eren can live with it. He falls asleep without a shower and without undressing. But when he wakes up in the morning, his shoes are off and next to Levi’s by the motel door. 

Wads of crumpled bills still line Eren’s pockets, even after buying them extra bagels and hot drinks--coffee for him and tea for his weirdo of a partner--and he comes back into the motel room whistling. Levi’s meticulously cleaning his favorite pistol, and by the time he’s finished the silver will fucking _ gleam. _ He flicks his eyes up at Eren, a quick acknowledgment. Would it be too cheesy to tell Levi that the gun really brings out his eyes?

“Got you multigrain with cream cheese.” 

“Saint Eren strikes again.” 

“Heh. So where we off to this time?” 

Levi jerks his head towards a shabby desk in the corner of the motel room. Eren glances through Levi’s notes. Clark County, Vermont? Wait, isn’t that--his head snaps up.

“When’s the last time you were there?” Eren asks. 

“Eight years ago.” 

“You sure you want to go?” 

“A case is a case.” Levi’s non-answer is an obvious deflection. Eren doesn’t push and lets Levi put the parts of his gun back together with a satisfying series of clacks. 

“Okay,” Eren says, trying not to let his excitement and curiosity show through lest it scare Levi away. The past is something Levi will allude to in many ways, but never fully uncover. Eren gets half a story here, a word of advice there, but ask too many questions and Levi goes darkly quiet. 

They scarf down their breakfast and grab their bags, which Eren notices with a soft stab of the heart have both already been packed. No doubt neatly and efficiently. 

It’s a crisp autumn morning and the leaves are just starting to fall. Eren swipes a few yellow strays from the front of the Mustang. 

Levi lets Eren take the wheel, tosses him the keys without a word, and Eren thinks maybe this means something beneath the surface. A turning point for them where Eren drives and Levi can close his eyes for once, and when he opens them, maybe he’ll share his secrets and stop telling Eren where the door is. 

Eren turns the key in the ignition and they drive north, towards Vermont.

Towards Levi’s past. 

**Author's Note:**

> Danni & Sara thank you both so much for betaing! 
> 
> And a special thank you to Arekru who I commissioned for some lovely art to go with this chapter which I will share out soon & update here with a link. [UPDATE] Check out the art [here](https://omglevixeren.tumblr.com/post/188766408722/wads-of-crumpled-bills-still-line-erens-pockets)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Kudos & comments are so appreciated!


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